


Synecdoche

by badwolf_doctor



Series: verse: The Promise Of Redemption [1]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Confessions of love, Gen, He Just Doesn't Know It Yet, Imperial Agent spoilers, Knights of the Fallen Empire Spoilers, Koth is captain of the TamxTheron ship, Multi, Other, Poor Tam'len has some issues, Satele tries her hand at mothering, Shadow of Revan spoilers, Tam is a lovesick puppy, Tam'len is a mess, Theron is irritated, and Tam'len is just amused, and it's kind of pathetic but mostly adorable, but so does everyone else, in cheesy and cliched ways, in fact Tam's issues have issues, it goes about as well as expected
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-05
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-04-19 05:48:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4734860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badwolf_doctor/pseuds/badwolf_doctor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Synecdoche</b>, noun:<br/><i>a figure of speech in which a part is used for the whole or the whole for a part.</i></p><p>A place for some of my tumblr fics about my Imperial Agent Tam'len.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Die on your feet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tam'len and Kaliyo bond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place during chapter 1, just after the Imperial Agent meets with Darth Jadus.

“He sure did a number on you Agent; what’d you do?” Kaliyo asked bemusedly as he regained consciousness. The last thing he remembered was standing before Darth Jadus and…oh, that was right.

 

“I refused to kneel.” He said, sitting up with a groan, bracing a hand against his aching ribs. His voice was gravelly from disuse and the strain he had put upon his vocal chords. He remembered trying not to scream but it hadn’t worked. Many in his profession might consider that a weakness, but he didn’t—just about anyone would scream when electrocuted by a Sith Lord. He hadn’t begged for his life though, which put him a step above many.

 

“Hmm…” Kaliyo said with what sounded like approval. “You really don’t like the Sith, do you?”

 

“I suppose you could say that.” He paused. “It’s complicated.” It wasn’t that complicated in all actuality. He was proud and stubborn and he could hold a grudge like no other. He had still been in training when he’d had his first run-in with a Sith Lord. The man had taken offense at the way Tam’len had bowed to him and in true Sith fashion, he had punished the young Chiss severely for a perceived offense even though there was none. He still bore the scars of his first encounter as a reminder of the cruelty of the Sith. To Tam’len, the Sith were useless ornaments of a bygone age. The Empire would have flourished better, in his opinion, if it stopped relying on those who killed each other and anyone else they came across out of boredom or spite.

 

“What isn’t complicated with you intelligence types?” Kaliyo teased.

 

“Good point.” He said with a laugh. He grimaced as a bolt of pain shot through his side. A part of him wished he had learned to keep his mouth shut and at least appear to kowtow to his “betters”, but the other part of him got a thrill at the thought of Darth Jadus’ frustration. He just wished he could have seen the dark lord’s face when he told him no. Few people ever said ‘no’ to Darth Jadus and lived to tell about it. That put him in a very small circle of people. He was quite proud of that accomplishment.


	2. Expendable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tam'len and Lana talk on Yavin 4.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place during SoR, on Yavin 4.

“You should see the way Theron glares at me.” Lana said into the comm. She sounded frustrated with the agent’s anger; he wasn’t surprised by that, Lana had thought herself in the right. He was surprised that she was telling him this; he’d thought she would be equally as frustrated with him for making her apologize. Tam’len hadn’t intended to get involved in their argument back on Rishi, but he hadn’t been able to stop himself. He had three modes: kill everything, apathy, and protect at all costs. And despite the fact that Theron could obviously take care of himself, Tam’len wanted to protect him. It was a different feeling than he was used to; strange and terrifying and frustrating all at once, but kind of wonderful too. 

“In his defense Lana,” Tam’len replied as he placed another sensor in the ground between their camp and the temple. “You did hand him over to people who tortured him.” Torture tended to bring out hard feelings in someone—especially toward anyone that had a hand in facilitating it. How many times during the debacle with Hunter had he harbored ill-will for Keeper, the Minister, the Dark Council, and even his own crew, despite the fact that they knew nothing about the hell he was going through? He couldn’t count them all. In his eyes, Theron’s anger was justified. 

Lana, to her credit, didn’t sound angry when she responded. She simply gave a sharp exhale of breath that wasn’t quite a huff before insisting, “It was the right call to make; we needed to know what the Revanites were up to and that was the simplest way.”

“Tactically, yes it was the best call.” He agreed. It wasn’t as if he thought Lana got any pleasure out of sending Theron off to be tortured. He knew that in the field sometimes there weren’t any good calls and you had to make the best of whatever bad situation you found yourself in. “However, you should have given Theron a say in the matter. You should have at least told him your plan. It’s hard not to feel betrayed when your ally doesn’t even give you a heads up before tossing you to the nexus.”

“I suppose I understand that.” Lana said. “However, I couldn’t take the chance he would say ‘no’.” It was hard to judge what Theron would have said about the mission if he’d known. Perhaps he would have agreed with it; after all, it is easier to handle any abuse knowing that someone is coming to rescue you. Even if Theron had said ‘no’, there were other options Lana could have taken. There weren’t words for the terror he’d felt when he’d heard the Revanites had Theron. Because there was nothing he could have done to get Theron out of that situation immediately; he couldn’t protect him. Tam’len hated feeling useless—more than that, he feared it. Aliens didn’t last long in positions of power in the Empire if they weren’t useful.

“Then you should have sent me.” Tam’len replied. After all, it wouldn’t have been the first time he’d been tortured in the name of the mission. If it meant protecting his companions, he’d have agreed in a heartbeat. 

“You?” Lana asked in disbelief. “I could never have done that. You are far too important to this mission.” He liked Lana; given his feelings on the Sith, he was surprised by just how much he liked her. If there were a few more Sith like her in charge, then perhaps that perfect Empire he’d always wanted to believe in could exist. But it didn’t exist and he knew what he was in the eyes of the Empire and it was not important.

He laughed at her words, but there was no mirth in it. “You and I both know that’s not true.” He replied. “I’m skilled yes, necessary from time to time but essentially I’m expendable. 

“I don’t believe that.” Lana countered after a few moments of silence.

“You’d be the only one.” Tam’len said as he placed that last sensor in position. “Final sensor in place, returning to base.”

“Acknowledged.” Lana confirmed. “Stay safe out there commander. And don’t for an instant think this conversation is over.” 

Tam’len chuckled to himself, amused. “Understood.”  
It wasn’t that Tam’len had a low opinion of himself. He thought himself to be a generally good person who did more good than harm. He supposed it had all started in his childhood. His father had been a renowned scientist, until the day he’d purposefully blown up his laboratory. The explosion killed everyone inside, his father and several Sith lords included. That, as one might imagine, caused problems between the Ascendancy and the Empire. After that, none of his family members had wanted to claim a child from such a tainted bloodline and so he’d been sent to an orphanage. In the orphanage, he’d learned quickly that you were only wanted as long as you were useful. He was barely a teenager when he’s been shuttled off to Dromund Kaas to join Imperial Intelligence. (He’d only been given that honor after lying, stealing, and fighting his way across the planet in an attempt to escape the orphanage and to get off Csilla.) In training, he had learned just how expendable aliens were to the Empire—especially to the Sith. He had a hard time believing people who told him he wasn’t expendable; after all those years, it was a hard belief to lose.

When he returned to the staging area, he found Lana waiting just outside their command center. “None of us would be here now if not for you.” She told him. “Despite what you might think, the things you do make a difference; you help others—you want to help others and that is a rare trait. It is that trait that makes you invaluable.”

“You’re not like other Sith, you know?” Tam’len asked, head cocked to the side and observing Lana as if he’d never quite seen her before.

“You’re not like other agents—current or former—so we make a fine pair.” She replied with a smile. Tam’len smiled in return. “You shouldn’t keep Darth Marr waiting.” She said after a moment. He nodded in agreement, heading up the stairs. He got halfway up before turning back towards Lana.

“Thank you for the pep talk, Lana.” He said. “Sometimes I need to hear things like that.”

Lana bowed her head slightly. “You are most welcome.”


	3. Expendable (Coda)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theron weighs in on Tam'len's presumed expendability.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also takes place during SoR, on Yavin.

“You should get in some rack time Commander, while you can.” Lana suggested. After everything he’d been through today he couldn’t argue with her; it would be nice to get a few hours of uninterrupted shut-eye. It had been go, go, go since the minute he’d walked through the hangar door on Darth Arkous’ ship. Tam’len couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept for more than an hour or two.

“Good idea.” He said. “Wake me if anything happens.” Lana gave a single nod and Tam’len turned on his heels and headed to his tent. It was strange to be out in the field and not be sleeping in a bedroll on the ground; strange but nice. Nicer still was what waited for him inside. Theron Shan stood next to the cot, fiddling with his implants. “Theron Shan, SIS in the tent of an Imperial Officer—tongues will wag.” He teased. Tam’len caught sight of the small grin Theron tried to hide at his words.

“They do that anyway, might as well give ‘em a reason.” Theron replied. Tam’len hadn’t expected to get so attached to someone who should by all accounts be his sworn enemy, but he had. And if he knew only one thing, it was that his life was better for having Theron in it.

“Are they bothering you?” Tam’len questioned, motioning to the implants the SIS agent was still fiddling with. Theron looked up at him then.

“Ah, yeah actually.” He replied. “Sometimes, depending on the weather they ache a little. I’m used to it by now though.”

“I’ve got an old vibroknife wound like that.” Tam’len commented. He’d never really been one for small talk but whenever Theron was around it was as if he lost all control over his mouth and he’d begin babbling. Of course, then Theron would usually start babbling as well and Lana was usually in the background somewhere sighing and rolling her eyes in exasperation. They were quite a mess.

Theron hadn’t intended to show up in Tam’len’s tent. Despite his earlier words, any scrutiny on this…whatever it was between them could be dangerous for both of them. But then he’d spoken with Lana and she’d mentioned something Tam’len had said to her earlier and with the danger involved in their current mission he realized that if he didn’t say this now, he might not get another chance. “Can we talk?” he asked.

“Always.” Tam’len replied. “That is, if you don’t mind me getting comfortable; I’m supposed to be getting in some rack time.”

“That’s fine.” Theron said. Tam’len slipped his vest off and tossed it down on the cot. Theron was close enough to see the dusting of freckles on the sniper’s arms; he was more than familiar with the pathway the freckles took up Tam’s arms and over his shoulders to where they disappeared under his shirt. For a moment he forgot what he was doing in Tam’len’s tent. He took a small step backwards, buying himself enough space to think. He exhaled slowly, clearing his mind and steeling himself for what he was about to say. “Lana told me about your conversation earlier.” He admitted. “About how you see yourself as expendable.”

“Oh.” Was Tam’len’s only reply. Theron understood the demands of the spy life—being a Republic spy was hard enough most days, he could only imagine how difficult being an alien Imperial spy must have been.

“I know in this job we’re trained to see numbers instead of people, trained to see yourself as little more than tools for our government. And I can’t imagine the crap Imperial Intelligence has been filling your head with all these years, but you can’t exist like that.” Tam’len sat down on the edge of the cot and began to pull his boots off. Theron didn’t know if that was the Chiss’ attempt to put some space between them because he didn’t want to hear this or what so he knelt to his level and continued, “Look at all the stuff you’ve accomplished. Nobody else could have done that. You’re not expendable, Tam’len. Not to this mission and definitely not to me, alright?” It was hard to admit exactly how much he cared for that ridiculous Imperial Agent. Ever since they’d met on Manaan there had been something there. Theron wasn’t a believer in fate or destiny, but if he was he’d say maybe fate had brought them together.

“Theron…”

“Look,” Theron interrupted. He was terrible at this kind of thing and his first instinct was to turn tail and run, but he buried the urge. “Just try not to die out there; I’d notice if you were gone.” Tam’len gave him a crooked smile and leaned forward to rest his forehead against Theron’s. “Get some sleep.” He instructed the Chiss.

“You could stay.” Tam’len offered. It was a tempting offer but that was why he had to say ‘no’.

“Can’t—Satele’s waiting for me.” Theron replied. He pressed a quick kill to Tam’len’s lips before standing and slipping out of the tent with one last backwards glance at Tam’len.


	4. Resilience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, being a sniper has its drawbacks--like when you have to fight a lightsaber wielding madman in close quarters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **KotFE spoilers ahoy! No, really--MAJOR spoilers. If you read this chapter and haven't completed KotFE you can't blame me for spoilers--because you've been warned.**

He was a sniper, deadly at long distances. The fact that he’d survived as long as he had in close quarters against a lightsaber wielding madman was due only Lana’s influence. _You need to be able to defend yourself against Arcann._ She had told him before they started their sparring sessions. He’d never been more grateful for Lana than he was at this moment. Of course, his luck couldn’t hold out forever and a single moment was all it took for everything to turn. Arcann pulled him with the force; he felt the lightsaber go in, the stench of burning flesh filled his lungs until he was choking on it. _Game over_ , he thought. No one could survive a wound like that, not for very long anyway. _This is the end._ No more running, no more lying, and no more killing. He had never put much thought into how he’d die. He’d simply always known it would be a violent death and that he would probably die young. Given his profession, his upbringing and that weird penchant he had for reckless heroics, how could it not be? He’d be at peace except for the unfinished business concerning certain people he’d been trying not to think about. The lightsaber slid out with the same ease it had gone in and he fell to the ground clutching the gaping (but thankfully mostly cauterized) wound. He didn’t die, much to his surprise. He was still breathing and in quite a lot of pain. At one point, that would have been disappointing but now he was just grateful for small favors. The former Minister of Intelligence had once told him that he was too stubborn to die and it appeared that, once again, the old man was right. Well, it was that or his extra passenger was taking a more proactive role and he wasn’t certain he even wanted to spare that possibility a single thought. He was terrified of being nothing but a weapon in someone else’s hands again. It was strange to think, all the things he’d seen and done in the galaxy, and _that_ was the thing of which he was most afraid.

  


Arcann moved to finish him off and Tam’len didn’t have the strength to defend himself. His rifle was laying just out of reach; he struggled in vain to reach it, fingertips just brushing the barrel. Luckily, things began falling down around him, throwing Arcann not only off balance but off the platform entirely. Well, at least his luck seemed to have a fairly short cooldown period. All that Tam’len could do was sort of roll out of the way of the falling boxes and hope for the best. That would probably be the title of his biography: **Roll out of the way and hope for the best, the Cipher 9 story**. Subtitled: _The universe hates me and I’m going to die young._ Koth showed up then like a knight riding in at the eleventh hour, and gently turned Tam’len over. The movement sent a shockwave of pain through Tam’len’s body but on the bright side, he was no longer up close and personal with the ground.

“I didn’t run all this way to watch you die on me.” Koth said. 

“I can’t make any promises, Koth.” Tam’len answered with a grimace. “But I’ll try not to die **on** you—next to, behind, or around aren’t entirely out of the question though.”

The pilot laughed at his response in a half **I can’t believe you’re joking about this** , half in relief kind of way. “We need to get back to the Gravestone and get out of here. Can you walk?” Koth stood up and took Tam’len with him.

The Chiss was unsteady for the briefest of moments until the adrenaline kicked in and he felt like he could run laps around Asylum if necessary. “I can make it.” He assured his new companion and took his first few steps forward on his own. He probably looked like some sort of newborn animal, shaking and wobbling. Tam’len was exceedingly glad no one else was around to see it. He didn’t fall flat on his face; he’d take that as a good sign. Off the pair went, fast as they could back to the Gravestone. Tam’len tried not to wonder whether it would be situational irony, dramatic irony, both, or merely a cosmic coincidence if he died on a ship called the Gravestone. Things were a bit blurry after that. He remembered there was a fair bit of fighting as they made their way down to the docks, during which he was little to no help. The only thing he remembered with any clarity was Koth reaching out to steady him from time to time. He was grateful for that. As far as travelling companions went, Koth was a good one. He was a good pilot, a terrific shot, wonderful company and not bad to look at. Were he pre-Revan/Ziost fiasco Tam’len he would have been flirting up a storm, but he wasn’t that person any more. And he couldn’t bring himself to be that person, especially not when his heart belonged to someone else. Ugh, that revelation hit him like a ton of durasteel. He buried the thought before his mind lingered too long on the one person he didn’t want to think about. If he started down that path, he’d spend all his time wondering where he was and if he was alright or if there’d been anyone else that caught his eye in the last 5 years and if he missed him half as much as Tam’len missed him—it would be all he could think about and he’d never get anything else done. So, better to focus on nothing but the mission.  


  
The next clear memory was standing on the bridge after the ship had made the jump to hyperspace. Everything between that was a blur of blaster fire and unyielding pain.

“Are you dying? Cause you look like you’re dying.” Koth’s mechanic Tora questioned loudly. “Can I have your stuff if you are?”

Tam’len glared at her from where he was leaning against the non-buttony part of the control console. “I’m fine.” He said through clenched teeth. Tora made some kind of analogy in reference to how bad he looked but he’d stopped listening. He needed to get to the infirmary. He pushed off the console to make his way down there and that was when the adrenaline wore off—because of course it was, and the pain hit him again and seemingly stronger than before. It was as if every pain he’d ever felt in his life had compounded to make this pain and it was more than he could bear. His knees buckled and as the ground rushed up to meet him, all he could think was that he hadn’t lived long enough to see Theron again. The floodgates opened then and every thought of Theron he’d been holding back came spilling forth until he was drowning in them; he gave himself over to the welcoming arms of oblivion then and knew no more for a long time.

  


Tam’len collapsed and Lana rushed to his side. She had known he was hurt; she’d sensed it but she neither knew how he’d been hurt nor how bad it was. “What happened?” she asked Koth who had knelt beside her. It looked like a lightsaber wound. She hoped that wasn’t the case; lightsaber wounds were notoriously tricky to heal.

“Arcann stabbed him with his lightsaber.” Koth replied, confirming Lana’s fears. 

She had always been amazed by Tam’len’s resilience. He seemed to thrive where he shouldn’t be able to, to survive things he shouldn’t have. But she had a newfound appreciation for it now. The former Imperial Agent shouldn’t have even made it out of the lower levels of Asylum, let alone made it back to the ship.  
“We need to get him to the medbay and stabilized.” Lana said. She and Koth, with the help of Senya carried the Outlander to the medical bay. With the help of the force, and the ancient medical droid, they managed to stabilize him and Lana let out a sigh of relief.

Though he was stable, his sleep was anything but peaceful; he was restless, tossing and turning and talking in his sleep. His words were nearly indecipherable, a mangled mix of Cheunh and basic—save for a single name that was repeated more than once: _Theron_. Lana wasn’t shocked by it; anyone who thought the relationship between the two agents was strictly professional clearly wasn’t paying attention. She was surprised that this was the first time the Outlander had even mentioned him.

“Who’s Theron?” Koth inquired curiously.

“Someone he cares for greatly.” Lana replied. “A former ally.”

“And does this _ally_ know that he’s alive?” Koth asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes, he does.” Lana said. 

Theron had always stubbornly held out hope that the agent was alive, even before there’d been any proof.

 _He’s not dead Lana—I’d know_. She recalled Theron saying angrily over a holocall.

“Then why isn’t he here?” Koth questioned. It seemed to him that if he lost someone he loved for 5 years and then got them back, he wouldn’t leave their side. But this man who supposedly cared for the Outlander hadn’t been involved in the rescue and hadn’t even been seen or heard from. That sounded a bit cold to him.

“He isn’t here because what he’s doing is important.” Lana explained. “They were both spies before this—they were trained to put the mission first. In truth, the whole mess is complicated and not my story to tell.” That was the last they spoke of the matter.

  


Two days later, Tam’len awoke with a start. Lana caught him by the shoulders to keep him from rising all the way to his feet. “Easy.” She advised. The kolto injections (probably more than was safe or wise) and the force had healed most of the internal damage but the synthetic skin used to close the wound was still healing. And he’d undo all their hard work if he didn’t take it easy. “Your wound is still healing. Truthfully, you should be in a kolto tank right now, but we need you alert and mobile.”

“Please tell me it hasn’t been another five years.” Tam’len replied, rubbing his eyes.

Lana smiled at his words, glad he was feeling well enough to make jokes. “It’s been two days.”

“I’ve never seen anybody survive a wound like that before!” Koth interjected excitedly. “Maybe you really are everything Lana says you are.”

“That’s me, fortune’s half-forgotten bastard son.” Tam’len replied. He didn’t believe he was chosen in any way, shape, or form. And his luck was oft times awful. But he supposed luck was luck whether it was bad or good. And he was alive and for now, that was enough.


	5. Resilience Coda

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An alternate take on the KotFE reunion. Because while the one in the game is nice, it's not entirely in character.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I 100% happy with this? Not really. But here it is. At some point I might do one from Tam'len's pov.

                Five years was a long time to spend apart. Especially after hearing someone tell you they love you. Alright, _tell_ was perhaps a relative term. Tam’len hadn’t exactly _told_ him face to face that he loved him. No, he’d helped Theron escape from a group of pirates, then left in the wee hours of the morning to help Darth Marr hunt down the Emperor. All he’d left was a video message and **that** was where the actual confession of love had come from.

_Marr wants my help finding the Emperor and I have a feeling we’re going to find him. It’s this itch at the back of my skull I can’t scratch, that feeling you get when you’re doing something you know you shouldn’t. I know we’re going to find him somewhere out in the black. I’m afraid we’re going to find him. I know I act like I’m never afraid, but I am. I’m terrified. You saw what the Emperor did to Ziost. What good can I do against someone with that kind of power? But he needs to be stopped, of that I have no doubt. This **is** a fight that needs to be fought. But I don’t think it’s one that I’m going to walk away from. So I need you to know something, I love you. I know, no one is more surprised by that than me. I can’t say this to your face though because I’m a coward. If I told you all this there’s no way I could do what I need to do. You can doubt that good will always win, you can doubt that suns will rise and empires will fall, you can doubt everything about me but never doubt that I love you. And I always will, even after I’m gone—till the stars fall from the sky, I am yours. You were the best thing that ever happened to me and if going through every horrible thing I’ve ever gone through is what it took to meet you then it was all worth it._

Theron had watched that vid countless times. He knew every word, every breath, and every expression, from the soft sound of Tam’len’s laughter after his confession, to the flush in his cheeks; all of it was etched in his memory. He’d gone through a myriad of emotions in the days since he’d woke to find an empty bed and a message left for him. First, he’d been angry—how could Tam’len just up and leave in the night without so much as a goodbye? That was kind of an asshole thing to do. Then, after he’d heard what had happened to Marr’s ship, he’d been heartbroken. Tam’len was presumed dead and whatever it was between them was over before it even had a chance to begin properly. Then, he’d been angry at Tam’len for going off and getting himself killed. But that had subsided when he’d learned Tam’len was still alive. After that, he’d been angry and heartbroken in equal measure until Lana had sent him an e-mail that simply said, _found him_. He wished he’d been able to join Lana’s rescue mission, but he couldn’t. Without him doing the job he was currently doing, this little rebellion of theirs would be over. For the sake of the galaxy, the job had to come first. Tam’len would understand that. At least, that’s what he told himself.

Now, he’d come to Odessen along with the rest of the new rebellion. Lana planned to make this their base of operations. It had potential. The location she’d picked for a base was easily defensible. That was certainly a plus. Theron had been on the run from Arcann’s goons for too long to get caught now.

“I thought you said that you found him, Lana?” Theron asked the Sith. He hadn’t seen any sign of Tam’len since he’d gotten to the planet. Theron was beginning to doubt Lana’s claims. “So why aren’t you parading him around and letting the people see their **only hope**?”

 

Lana frowned at him. “He’s been confined to the ship.” She replied.

 

Theron and Lana had been in sparse contact since she and Koth had rescued the former Cipher 9. He’d gotten updates when they’d gotten him out of carbonite, and when Lana had learned about the Emperor taking up residence. And Theron disagreed with Lana about everything concerning Tam’len. He disagreed with her letting Tam’len control the _tag-along Emperor_ situation; Theron thought they should actively be doing more to rid Tam’len of his unwanted guest. And force knew he disagreed with her making Tam’len the Commander of this rebellion, of billing him as a savior. There was enough pressure on the Chiss agent as it was without that added weight. But Lana thought that hope was the most powerful ally they had, and the fact that Tam’len had slain the Emperor meant he could inspire it in their fighters. Knowing that the seemingly immortal Emperor could be killed would give them hope that Arcann too could be defeated.

 

“What? Why?” Theron tried his best to contain his worry, to keep it out of his tone but he knew Lana could sense it.

 

“There was a confrontation with Arcann on Asylum. Tam’len was injured, quite badly.”

 

Theron’s stomach dropped and he felt his hands ball into fists, fingernails digging into his palms. What the kriffing hell was Lana doing letting the **SNIPER** take on a fully trained, lightsaber wielding force user?

 

“He’ll live.” Lana added quickly and Theron let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “But the wound is still healing. You and I both know that if I let him off the ship, he’d be running himself ragged instead of taking it easy.”

 

He had to admit that Lana had a point. “Well, I won’t argue with that. Though I don’t think I’m in a position to throw stones about that one.”

 

Lana observed him carefully for a moment. “Perhaps you should go see him—I know he’d like to see you.”

 

Theron took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Was he ready for this? Hell no. And yet, at the same time, hell yes. What would he even say to Tam’len if he saw him? He’d written him an e-mail after Lana had found him. But he hadn’t exactly said much of any value, merely hinted at a few things. And he certainly hadn’t approached the topic of being pissed at him. Would he even be upset with him if he saw him? Or would he be too grateful the other agent was alive to be angry? He honestly didn’t know.

“I dunno Lana,” he said. “I’ve got a lot of stuff to do…important stuff—rebellion stuff.”

 

Lana’s frown deepened. “The work will keep Theron. He’s injured and he missed you, that means you’ll have an easier time tending to the wound than Koth or myself would.”

 

Theron had fully intended to argue with her about how Tam’len was an adult and could look after himself, but instead he’d simply sighed and headed off to the Gravestone (if you asked him, that was an awful name for a ship. Creepy, in fact. And immensely weird.)

 

The Captain’s cabin was nestled in a dark corner of the ship. Theron supposed that was thematically appropriate, given the name and feel of the ship. Why wouldn’t everything be in a dark corner? Was there any place on this ship that _wasn’t_ a dark corner? How did that even work? Theron took a deep breath and decided to forego knocking for the sheer fact that he might lose his nerve if he had to wait for Tam’len to respond. It would be far better to just go straight in. The doors slid open and Theron stepped inside; the room was surprisingly bright, especially in contrast with the rest of the ship. Tam’len was seated on the edge of the bed with a datapad in hand, he didn’t look up as Theron entered.

“I’m really not in the mood for company, Lana.”

 

Wow, Theron hadn’t realized how much he’d missed the sound of that accented voice until that moment. So much for being angry. “Wow Tam, your awareness must **really** be out of whack if you thought I was Lana.” He said. “You **do** remember me, right?”

 

Tam’len sat the datapad down as he looked up. His whole demeanor changed as his eyes found Theron’s face, he sat up straighter and a wide smile spread across his face—a **real** smile, Theron could tell by the way the corners of Tam’s eyes wrinkled as he smiled. “Theron,” Tam’len said his name in an almost reverent whisper, like it was a prayer. That was something Theron could definitely get used to. “It would take more than a near death experience and being frozen for 5 years in carbonite for me to forget you.”

 

There were a million and one witty retorts on the edge of Theron’s tongue but he lost them all as he was hit with an overwhelming need to know that this was real. He crossed the room in three long strides, cupped the Chiss’ face in his hands and leaned down to kiss him. Five years’ worth of longing and need, of anger, heartbrokenness and apologies culminated in a kiss that was anything but gentle; it was sloppy and downright needy with far too much teeth. And when it was over, he pulled Tam’len into a hug despite the awkward angle. He heard Tam’len sigh contentedly against him and for just a moment, Theron didn’t care about the state of the universe.

 

“Hey,” the sniper said. Theron pulled back, kneeling down so he was eye level with Tam’len, his hands braced against the Chiss’ knees. “I love you.”

 

Theron didn’t even try to hide his smile at Tam’len’s words. “Yeah, I know.” He replied. “I got your vid.”

 

“Ah.” Tam’len said. “But now I’m telling you for real. I love you and I should have told you to your face a long time ago. And I’m sorry that I didn’t.” Tam’len leaned forward, one hand resting on Theron’s forearm.

 

“I _was_ angry with you for a while.” Theron admitted. Tam’len looked guilty. “Then I was just upset, then I was angry again and right now, I’m too happy to see you to be anything else.” He placed a hand on Tam’len’s chest and the Chiss hissed in pain. Theron moved his hand quickly. “Sorry.” He said. “How bad is it, really?”

 

“It’s fine.” Tam’len insisted. “Barely a scratch.”

 

Theron frowned. “That’s not what Lana said.” He countered.

 

“Fine, it’s a little bad.” Tam’len conceded.

 

“Yeah and Lana also wants me to tend to it—so shirt off, pal.”

 

Tam’len smirked. “You don’t have to use that as an excuse to get my clothes off. All you have to do is ask.” He did as instructed, carefully sliding his shirt off.

 

“Kriff, Tam.” Theron exclaimed breathlessly upon seeing the mess of still healing skin in the center of his chest. How the hell was Tam’len even still alive after an injury like that? “What were you thinking, taking on Arcann by yourself?”

 

Tam’len shrugged as Theron rose to his feet and moved to the desk across the room. “I **thought** I was being heroic and buying time for Koth to free the Gravestone from the dock.”

 

Theron scoffed. “There’s a fine line between _heroic_ and **stupid** , Tam’len.”

 

The other man chuckled softly. “I’ll keep that in mind, dearest.”

 

A moment of silence passed between them as Theron began to dig through the desk drawer for medical supplies. He finally found what he was looking for, grabbing the kolto shot and shutting the drawer. He caught Tam’len’s gaze as he looked up.

 

“Hey,” he said quietly. “I love you too, you know?”

 

Tam’len smiled in response and Theron could help but smile back. He’d never thought himself capable of loving someone, let alone _telling_ them that he loved them. He didn’t usually do sentiment like that. But here he was. Happy, even with the threat of the Eternal Empire looming over them.


	6. Concern

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Satele tries her hand at motherly concern, Theron isn't impressed and Tam'len is just glad that Jedi are less likely to fry someone with force lightning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place on Yavin 4, after [Expendable](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4734860/chapters/10821983)

                Satele Shan had never been much of a mother, at least not to him. But the look she gave him as he entered the command tent late and slightly disheveled was _very_ motherly and of the disapproving variety. Theron, always one to be obstinate, made a show of fixing his shirt and pants, giving the Grandmaster a good view of the suspiciously mouth-shaped bruises on his collarbone. This wasn’t the first time he and Tam’len had stolen a few moments since coming to Yavin; the nature of this situation meant that most of their time together was only a slew of stolen moments in between dangerous and life-threatening missions. But that was part of the appeal.

 

“You’ve been with the Imperial Agent.” Satele commented curtly once the meeting was over and they were alone. Theron had never seen someone with such a perfected turned up nose look before—it was clear what she thought of his _liaisons_ with his Imperial counterpart. He didn’t particularly care. Right now, the Imperials were their allies and Tam’len was different than any other Imperial Intelligence operative Theron had ever met; sometimes, it felt like Tam’len was the only person Theron could trust on _either side_. Kriff, Lana had thrown him to the Kath Hounds, he was always on the outs with the SIS for one reason or another, and he didn’t have any close friends or family but Tam’len had come to rescue him from Revan even though he’d had no reason to do so. Would anyone else he knew have done the same? Somehow, he doubted it. After all, this was _Revan_ they were talking about. One of the most powerful force users ever to exist; not many people would face down that kind of power, even for an ally.

 

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business.” Theron replied shortly. Say what you want about the Chiss being a professional liar, but he’d been completely honest and open with Theron. The SIS agent had seen him be nothing but polite, even _nice_ to any and all of the Republic operatives on Yavin. That wasn’t a trait most Imperial agents possessed. They could be _civil_ , yes but it always sounded as if they thought themselves above everyone else—but not Tam’len. He was a good man by all accounts. And kriff, did the sight of that crooked smile do things to Theron. He thought back on the last hour with fondness, the feeling of Tam’len’s hands ghosting over his skin, lazily tracing old scars stayed with him. Relationships had never been Theron’s thing; his life was far too complicated. He always had to lie about his job and he was gone for weeks, sometimes months at a time and he’d long ago run out of excuses for the injuries he was always sporting. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that with Tam’len it would be different. Perhaps the only person who could truly understand or accept the life of a spy was another spy?

 

 

“He and the others are our allies, for now.” Satele continued. “However, one day this alliance will be over and the Empire will once again be our enemies; you and he shall be on separate sides of an eternal conflict.”

 

 

Theron frowned. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.” He repeated.

 

 

“I do not wish to see you hurt.” Satele told him.

 

 

“You’ve never had any interest in being a mother, _Grandmaster_ ,” he said, emphasizing her title. “Why the sudden interest in my love-life?” Perhaps that was a cold thing to say to his mother, but it was true. Satele had chosen the Jedi Order over him, therefore she didn’t get a say in anything he did. And Theron reserved the right to be bitter about it from time to time.

 

 

“You’re playing a dangerous game Agent.” Kriff, she couldn’t even call him by the name _she_ had given him. He wanted to roll his eyes and stomp off but that would be childish. “Attachments, especially unwise ones, can have disastrous consequences—not just for you but for the Republic as well.”

 

 

“Lucky for me, I’m not a Jedi—I can form all the attachments I want.” Theron replied perhaps a bit petulantly. “If things end badly and he breaks my heart then I will live and learn. But I’m not going to end things just because I’m scared of how they might end; I don’t wanna live my life so afraid of losing something that I never even attempt to have it.”

 

 

Was it his imagination or did Satele look _proud_ of him? Surely it had to be his imagination. “What do you even know of him?”

 

 

Good question. He knew that Tam’len was an orphan who’d been shipped off to Imperial Intelligence at a young age. He couldn’t imagine what it was like to grow up without a single parental figure. Sure, Theron hadn’t had his actual parents present growing up, but he’d had Master Zho at least. And then there was the fact that Tam’len was an alien in an organization that was notoriously xenophobic. But despite all the abuse he must have suffered, somehow Tam’len still managed to be so kind. He knew the path that the jagged scars took from Tam’s face and on down to his torso, knew enough to be able to read the subtle differences in the Chiss’ body language; Theron knew the sound of his laughter and the feel of his lips. He knew that the things he _didn’t_ know about Tam’len didn’t matter because he knew enough to trust him. “I know more about him than about either you or the Supreme Commander.” Another low blow, but it was the truth. Though, to be fair, Jace hadn’t known of his existence until he was an adult. It was hard to say whether or not the Commander would have tried his hand at parenting had he known.

 

Satele observed him carefully for a moment in a way that made him uneasy. “You love him.” Not a question but a statement, Theron noticed. Did he _love_ Tam’len? Wasn’t it a little soon to be throwing words like that around? He trusted Tam and enjoyed his company and it was true that they had been through a lot together but he wasn’t certain he’d use the word _love_. That was mostly due to the fact that Theron wasn’t entirely sure he had the _capacity_ to love. Jedi training at an early age coupled with the nomadic and mercurial life of a spy didn’t do much in the way of forming healthy attachments…or attachments of any kind really. He wasn’t sure he _could_ love. But he’d like to. And maybe he’d even like to be in love with Tam’len. But it was too soon to think those kinds of things. It wouldn’t do him any good to fall in love with someone he could never really have.

 

“Once again, not any of your business.” He said. It appeared Satele had _finally_ gotten the message about prying into his life; she cast one last look at him before ducking out of the command tent.

 

* * *

* * *

 

                Tam’len sat alone, his rifle spread out on the table before him, disassembled and in the process of being cleaned. He heard the soft footfalls echo on the stone steps and looked up to find Satele Shan approaching. He hadn’t had much opportunity or desire to spend any time with the Jedi. Tam’len had a healthy dislike of the Sith and he didn’t see how the Jedi were much better. Sure, they were less likely to kill and maim others out of spite, but their nearly pacifistic nature didn’t make them particularly useful in wartime. And then there was the fact that Satele was Theron’s mother. “Grandmaster.” He greeted with a nod. Just because he didn’t particularly _like_ the Jedi on the whole didn’t mean he had to be rude (all the time that is; sometimes he couldn’t help but be snippy.) “Why do I feel like this is the beginning to a _‘what are your intentions for my son’_ conversation?”

 

“You have good instincts.” Satele replied. “Normally I would not concern myself with such matters, however…” she sounded a strange mixture of concerned and embarrassed.

 

“Theron’s your son and I’m a servant of the Empire. A spy and an alien to boot. Which as I understand it, is the mother-worrying trifecta.” Theron liked to make a big deal about how Satele didn’t care about him, but it was obvious that she did. She obviously cared about his father, or else Theron wouldn’t exist in the first place. And if she had loved Jace, then it stood to reason she loved Theron as well. But she _had_ chosen the Order over her son and the love of her life. Tam’len could understand why Theron would be bitter about that, but he _did_ have parents who cared about him. And that was better than being truly unwanted. Tam’len had been unwanted his whole life. After his father had blown up his lab along with a Sith Lord and several high ranking Ascendency members, none of his living relatives had wanted him. So he’d been shipped off to the only orphanage on Csilla. The administrators there hadn’t wanted him there either and he had spent years trying to run away. Once he’d joined Intelligence, there had been _plenty_ of people who hadn’t wanted him there. And then after he’d fought Jadus, Intelligence hadn’t really wanted him. Working with Lana and Theron was the first time in Tam’len’s entire life where he felt as if he was wanted.

 

“Yes.” Satele admitted. Well, at least she was honest.

 

“Ask me whatever you wish, I’ll answer you honestly.” Tam’len told her.

 

Satele was silent for a moment, then she said. “You are better at shielding your emotions than he is.”

 

Tam’len smiled. “When you grow up with a passionate hatred of the Sith and are still expected to work with them, you learn very quickly how to shield yourself.” He said, running a hand along part of the scar on his nose.

 

“Do you love him?” That was a rather blunt question. It appeared the Grandmaster didn’t mess around.

 

Tam’len chuckled softly. “I don’t know.” He said with a shrug. “It’s been a whirlwind of an experience and I haven’t truly had time to sit down and figure out my emotional state. I honestly don’t know if I’m in love with him. And I don’t exactly have any experience with that emotion, so I’m not certain I’d know if I was.” Satele continued to observe him silently. “What I _do_ know is that I care about him, a lot. I would never do anything that would put him in danger.” Tam’len paused and took a deep breath. “As much as I am loyal to the Empire, if it came down to a choice between the Empire and Theron, I would choose Theron. Because when you’ve lived a life not knowing who to trust, when you find someone you can trust completely, you do whatever it takes to protect that relationship.”

 

Satele didn’t reply and Tam’len was left wondering what she had made of his words.

 

“Does that answer satisfy you, Grandmaster?” he asked. He hadn’t said those things merely to appease her. He meant them. There were a handful of people he trusted and Theron had somehow worked his way to the top of the list.

 

Satele didn’t respond. She simply continued to observe him carefully as if trying to judge if his words were true. There was the brief but familiar feeling of someone in his mind.

 

“I thought your kind usually asked before doing that, something about it separating you from the Sith?” he questioned. He didn’t actually mind so much. She wasn’t trying to mess with his head, which was a welcome change to everyone else that had ever been up there.

 

“You’re right,” Satele replied apologetically. “I’m sorry.”

 

“It’s alright Grandmaster,” Tam’len said. “You’re certainly the gentlest person that’s ever been up there. Did you find whatever it was you were looking for?”

 

After a moment of silence, Satele rose to her feet. “Agent.” She said by way of goodbye. He figured that was as close to an approval as he was likely to get from her. Tam’len was grateful that the Jedi were less likely to fry someone with force lightning for sleeping with their children than the Sith. Had Satele been a Sith, that conversation would have gone a lot differently. There probably would have been a fair bit of screaming and possibly writhing on the ground.

 

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

                Theron had done his best to ignore the Grandmaster’s words. Whatever it was between him and Tam’len, it wasn’t a big deal. Just a bit of fun, a distraction from the horror Revan planned to unleash. And _certainly_ nothing to use that much feared ‘l’ word over. And yet, Satele **had** used it. It must have come from somewhere. Surely she didn’t use it just to throw him off? To make him so panicked over it as to never be involved in anything less than professional with the Imperial? Surely she wouldn’t do that? He didn’t know the Grandmaster well enough to judge that. But you know what? It didn’t matter. If he wanted to keep seeing Tam’len, then he would and nobody was going to stop him.

 

Night had fallen on the camp and Theron found the Chiss’ tent empty. It wasn’t that unusual, Tam’len kept odd hours. Most spies did; there was always something that haunted them, something that made it difficult to sleep and anyone who said differently was lying. He knew where to find Tam’len. The Imperial liked to sit out on the edge of the jungle here on Yavin; he said it reminded him of Dromund Kaas. So torch in hand, Theron headed off towards the jungle. He didn’t have to go far before he spotted a pair of red eyes glowing in the darkness.

 

“Hullo, Theron.” The Chiss greeted.

 

“Hey.” Theron said, using his torch to find a place to sit next to Tam’len.

 

They sat in silence for a moment, before Tam’len turned and asked, “Is everything alright, Theron?”

 

“Why?” Theron hadn’t meant to sound so defensive. Tam’len was just inquiring because they were friends and he was worried about him. It didn’t have to be anything more than that.

 

“You just seem like there’s something bothering you.” Tam’len answered.

 

Theron sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I had a strange conversation with the Grandmaster today.”

 

He heard Tam’len chuckle softly. “I did as well.”

 

“What?!” Bothering him about it was one thing, he _was_ technically her son and even if her concern over the relationship had more to do with the danger it posed to the Republic than with him, it made sense for her to bring her concerns to him. But what right did she have to harass Tam’len?

 

“She wanted to know what my intentions were with you.” Tam’len sounded far too amused and Theron was certain everyone in camp could hear him grinding his teeth.

 

“That’s it, I don’t care if it’s late—I’m going to have a word with her…” Theron tried to push himself to his feet but Tam’len grabbed him by the wrist, pulling him back down.

 

“It’s alright Theron.” He said. “She just wanted to make sure that I’m not using you for intel.”

 

“What did you tell her?” Theron asked curiously.

 

“Well, I suppose I _could_ have told her that I’m not even technically Imperial Intelligence anymore—despite the fact that Lana refuses to call me anything other than Agent. So I would have no reason to be attempting to get intel from you.” Tam’len replied. “But I told her that anything with you was separate from the job and the mission. That I like you, a lot and however long this is a thing, I’m in.”

 

Theron didn’t know what to say in response to that. So instead, slid his hand into Tam’len’s. He could just make out that crooked smile on Tam’len’s face in the torchlight. Ugh, he was going to _hate_ to have to admit that Satele was right.


End file.
